Tattoo Time
by Chika Vazquez
Summary: After Castiel lost his grace he had greater risks. Maybe it was time to look into getting a tattoo. [I didn't reread it, so I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes.]


**New Destiel Story! Sorry for any grammar mistakes. I tried. Hope you like it!**

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Castiel was unsure on actually getting inked. He had thought about it several times after he lost his grace. He didn't want to be an inconvenience to Dean and be possessed over by a demon. But, they were already on their way to the tattoo parlor. Dean suggested the usual place, but Sam interfered and said to take Cas to an actual tattoo parlor and not in the back of someone's van.

"Don't worry, Cas. It doesn't hurt much." Dean comforted, patting Cas' shoulder.

It still had no comfort. They arrived quickly and Dean was the first to walk in. The receptionist had neon pink hair put up in two ponytails, and was tatted up. She wore mostly black and was reading the latest issue of _The Rolling Stones_. Dean made sure that they were checked in and then took a seat next to Castiel.

Cas was a bit shaken. He heard light groans coming from further inside of the building. Sam had also described it to be painful and his skin might puff up too much. Castiel wished he had his grace, so that he wouldn't have to get the bloody tattoo. Two women came out from further inside. Dean flashed a flirty smile at them and Cas ignored them.

"Your turn, sweetie." The receptionist popped her bubblegum at the end of that sentence. They walked towards the end of the shop. Castiel still a bit afraid. The tattoo artist wore a black shirt and jeans. He had several tattoos running from his fingers to his shoulders. Dean greeted him and explained what tattoo Castiel would get.

"I've had a couple of people get those." The man laughed, "What is it? Some kind of cult?"

"Yeah, something along the lines." Dean laughed.

"Now, where do you want it?" The artist asked Castiel. Castiel looked confused and turned back to Dean, expecting and answer.

"Back, on the back of the shoulders." Dean answered, "The right one."

The artist nodded and asked Castiel to take off his clothing. Castiel did so, very slowly. Dean had to help him, just so that he could hurry. Cas laid down on the table and the tattoo artist began the process. Cas felt a cold dab of shaving cream on the back of his right shoulder. The artist made small talk with Dean and Castiel. Dean answered with politeness, while Cas stayed quiet. Once the razor was done, he cleaned up the back and took out a stencil. Dean laughed when he saw the artist have one.

He pulled it away with ease and left Cas with the blueprint of the tattoo. Dean began to notice how nervous Cas was and stepped to his left side and intertwined his fingers into his hand. Cas felt relieved when Dean began to comfort him so sweetly. The artist had prepared his machine and was ready to begin what Castiel hated the most. Dean sat down next to Cas, not letting his hand go. Castiel turned to see Dean; they were both at eye level.

"You want to get some grub after this?" Dean smiled. The artist began to do the line-work. Cas let out a small yelp and gasped, "Hey, breathe. Don't hold in your breath."

Cas nodded slowly. The artist watched both men interact with each other. Dean reached to Castiel's hair. He slowly began to run his fingers through it, trying to ease the pain a little. The artist kept on working; he smiled a bit when he saw them comfort each other. The line-work was done quickly. Castiel sighed, thinking that the whole process was done. The artist pulled the black colour and placed it on the machine.

The real pain was about to begin. Castiel gritted his teeth, trying to breathe as Dean said. All the while, he felt Dean slowly stroke his fingers through Cas' hair. He whispered a few comfort words here and there. Dean's own remedy for pain. The artist chuckled a bit and looked up at Dean.

"How long have you two been together?" The artist smiled. Dean felt his face blush red. He wanted to let go of Cas' hand, but Cas was gripping it so tightly that he could not. He didn't even realize that his other hand was still stroking Cas' hair.

"Five years." Cas responded. His voice barely audible.

Dean turned to look at Cas knowing that Cas had misinterpreted the question. Cas looked so vulnerable at the moment that Dean never realized just how much he cared for the fallen angel. Dean looked back at the artist as if the artist was some kind of judge and about to wed them.

"Yeah… five years." Dean declared.


End file.
